Why Even Bother
by Payne N. Uranus
Summary: A Collection of OneShots. Quick reads, some humorous, some thought-provoking. Whichever genre in which it lays, it's guaranteed a good read. WARNING: May cause you to think. You have been warned. --Discontinued--
1. Why Even Bother: Yusuke POV

**Why Even Bother?- A Yu Yu Hkausho Fanfic.**

By Painin Uranus 

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.:AN:.**

This comes from my own screwed-up mind. When you look at the world, what do you see? Do you see the wonders of the world, or do you see destruction? Do you see beauty or waste? What is it that you see when you look at what the human race has done with the world—what the human race is _doing_ to the world?

This is what Yusuke sees.

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Why Even Bother?**

I feel sick.

And it's not because of Mom's horrible cooking, or the fact that Kayko literally dragged me to school for once today.

It's because of this place called Earth.

I'm not the sentimental type, but it just makes me feel like I'm going to hurl when I see what we have done to the world.

And it's sad.

Because I save this place everyday.

It's my job.

But, then again, I don't see why I'm saving these people from demons when…

I need to save them from themselves.

I need to save the world. Not the people that live on it.

They don't need saving.

And they don't need the demon's help to make the world resemble that of the Demon World.

They can do it fine on their own, albeit it would take a little bit more time—plus, it doesn't necessarily look all crappy and shit.

Before I became the Spirit Detective, I use to think that the world was a wonderful place. I mean, we created the video games, the gum, the punching bag, the fighting arenas, the glorious food—chips, soda, croissants (it's still a stupid name, but they taste _great_), ect. I never thought that the world was a _horrible_ place.

I never thought of how badly we messed it up.

We the human race

Sometimes I don't see why I even bother trying to protect it, when all I see are assholes walking around like they own the place, bastards that think they can do whatever they want to other people, bitches going around and putting others down just so that they can feel good about themselves.

I like the way they look, but when they open their mouths…

You feel the need to take bleach and detergent (I now know what those things are thanks to Kayko) and stuff it down their throat.

I hate the world sometimes…

And I'm thinking this as I walk home, from school, beside the street as speeding cars zip down the road. It was one of those cars that had killed me.

Literally.

Their tail pipes spouting that ugly, sickening black gas…

I hate that gas.

I'm probably breathing it in with it mixed with the seemingly clean air called _oxygen_. But, it's not _oxygen_ anymore because that disgusting black _gas_ is combined with it.

There were trees over my head, their surprisingly still-healthy green leaves glinting like gems thanks to the blazing sun.

I hate that sun.

It disguises the world, making it seem like a friendly, happy place, when it really isn't. It makes people comfortable with the way they rule the world.

'Well, the sun is till shining, so I'll just keep filling the air with smoke.'

'I guess since the sun is still shining, that must mean that God is happy, so I can continue stealing things from people.'

'The sun is shining, what I'm doing is right.'

'The sun is shining.'

'The sun is shining.'

'The sun is shining.'

'The sun is'—Shit, that's what! So what if it shines? It shines practically every frikin _day_! How did it become some sort of _prophecy_? What kind of insight is _that_, huh?

And what does _GOD_ have anything to do with it!

Those idiots, I get so enraged just thinking about it. I can never find the right words to describe how I feel concerning the way the world turned out.

By now, my face is set in a scowl, walking past the Ramen House without a second glance… or a first, for that matter. I just totally ignored it.

And I almost ran Kayko over because of it.

"Yusuke, what's wrong?" she asked with a concerned wrinkle around her brow.

And I stop.

I stare at her.

And I continue to stare, seeing things that make my anger wither away…

I can see true worry in her eyes, in her tone of voice. I can see the love for everyone shining in those eyes, just like that damned sun. I can see her hands are slightly pruned from helping her parents with the dishes back inside the ramen house. I can see a smudge of grease or something, possibly from cleaning the stove or whatever. I can see the wrinkles of exhaustion on her face, most likely from keeping up her with her homework assignments and stuff along with helping out others.

And despite all of this, she is worried because I'm mad at the world again—something that is almost as natural as breathing and fighting are for me.

"Hey, Urameshi, what's with the ticked off look?" A gruff voice asked from behind me, stupidity mixed with confusion. I smile only a bit as I turn to face him.

I see him standing there, his hands in his pockets as he tilts his head to the side. I can also see his upset gaze settling on mine, the confusion drifting away when he gives me his "I understand" look. As big of an idiot he can be sometimes, there are brains under it all.

"Yusuke," Kurama said in his quiet, calm voice. "Is there something wrong?" I know he can tell that something is, and I can safely bet my right hook that he knows what. He's just asking because he's polite and proper—never intruding. His composed tone laced with kindness meets my ears, almost soothing my anger right there.

Figures.

And they automatically move in front of me, so that I can see them all at the same time.

I almost smile.

Because now I know why I try so hard to protect this world.

People like Kayko. Who worry over the littlest things, trying their hardest to make them feel better… to help in some small way, no matter what situation they themselves are in.

People like her parents. Who stand up for what they think is best, standing by their morals… to show others that sticking to what they believe is right makes people stronger.

I fight for people like Kuwabara—despite my "dislike" for him. Who try their hardest to prove that they can make a difference, forcing their bodies to work even when they are crying out in pain… their will to complete what they need to with honor and respect ruling most of their strength.

People like Mr. Takenaka—Old Man. Who try their best to make others see their potential, show them that there is more to life than the small things… proving that anyone can succeed in life.

People like that kid that I saved from being hit by that car, and his mom. Who weep for the dead instead of taking pleasure in it, thanking those when they know that words are meaningless… trying to protect those that are too innocent in the mind from the darkness of the world.

People like Kurama—Suichi Minamino. Who do their best in whatever they do, and try to sympathize with others who are too caught up in depression to care about anything. Who try to make others feel better about themselves, no matter what they have to give up in doing so. Who try their hardest to succeed when they put their mind and energy into it.

I stared at each of them in turn, noticing that I was making them uncomfortable with a smile.

This was why I risked my life for the human race.

Because, mixed in with all of the assholes, bitches, bastards, and such…

Were people like them.

And then I saw my mother, standing with Mr. and Mrs. Yukimura… without the usual bottle of sake in her hands.

Despite her inability to take care of me properly, I still care about her.

I love her, just like I love Kayko, her parents, Kuwabara (as much as I hate to admit it), Kurama, and everyone else that I don't feel like naming at the moment… but deserve the thanks anyways.

I save the human race because of people like them.

And I know that if the world had been run by these kind of people, it would be a nice, but crappy place to live.

And as much as I hate the sun, the pollution, and the idiotic morons that control the world today…

I know that it will someday change.

Maybe the human race isn't all that bad after all.

But, then again…

Who am I to judge?

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.:AN:.**

I know that it was kind of stupid and crappy, but I think that I got the point across, don't you?

As much as I'd like to hide it, this is how I feel about the human race. I think we're just a load of morons… and I'm curious on how we've managed to avoid blowing up the Earth for this long…

Yes, humanity doesn't need the devil's help to destroy all of life as we know it, but it was a nice offer, really it was… Anyways, I'd like to apologize to anyone who may have been disgusted or offended by this story, but don't bother flaming me because I will just ignore them and delete them. This is how I feel and if I don't have the freedom of speech, then Bush as ruined this country more than I thought he had. (Once again, no offense).

As I have also put in this story, there are also good people out there that have some sort of conscience, and I must say that I love those type of people. THANK YOU, YOU GOOD PEOPLE! YOU'VE HELPED THE HUMAN RACE TO SURIVIVE THIS LONG! WITHOUT YOU, WE'D BE BURIED 6-FEET UNDER! THANK YOU AGAIN!

So, that's the end of this… I don't know, but whatever it is, this is the only one of its kind. My other stories don't have anything against the human race, Bush, or anything else like that.

Sayonara!

Painin Uranus a.k.a. P.U.


	2. Wave on The Bus: Kuwabara POV

**Wave On A Bus- A Yu Yu Hakusho Fanfic.**

_By Painin Uranus_

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.:AN:.**

Right, before I start this one, here's some answers to the comments and questions that I recieved from my last one-shot:

**Cerridwene:** I'm glad that you liked it. Really, it's just the way that some of my writing comes out, but I'm glad that you liked it.

**Black Wolf Jaganshi Lover:** Thank you, I tend to write deep work (hence the following one-shot). And to answer your question, the reason why Hiei wasn't listed was because that he's a demon, and therefore doesn't count as a human causing crap in the human world. Understand? Kurama was mentioned because of his alias--Suichi Minamino.

**okamigirl13:** It's good to hear that you liked it. Don't say that you suck at reviews, every one is appreciated. Thank you for taking the time to review to my story.

Okay, story number two. This one is about Kuwabara. I know he doesn't ride the bus, but this was when he went to elementary school, okay? To be honest, I think this story is a great symbol of Kuwabara's kindness and honor. He's really a nice person, if you look past his stupidity and ugliness… so, have fun reading "Wave on a bus". Tell me what you think!

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**Wave On A Bus**

Everyday we drove by her house. And she was always out there—a plump little woman around her late 40's, early 50's. Brown-turning-silver hair, and kind eyes.

At least, as far as I could see.

After all, we were on a bus.

Anyways, she would always be out there, watching us as we turned the corner where her house was. And she waved to us. Why? Dunno. She just did, and she did it every morning. You always count on her standing out there with her mug of coffee, in her robe, waving to us with a joyful smile on her face.

Something like that usually made people want to smile and wave back, don't you think?

But people talked about her every time we passed by, saying she was stupid and stuff. The popular kids would make mean jokes about her, and everyone else on the bus would laugh at them, saying that they were funny and true.

But why did waving to us every morning make her stupid?

She didn't look stupid. She looked nice. Even though she was in her bathrobe, she looked friendly. I liked the fact that she was there every morning, waving us off to our school. She was being nice.

So why did that make her stupid?

Every morning, the jokes got meaner and crueler. And every morning, I would pray that she wasn't out there waiting for us. But she always was, waving just like she would every morning, not the least bit duller than the morning before. I groaned and hid my face every time we passed her house, trying to tune out the jokes and teases that came from those popular boys.

One morning, we drove by her house and, once again, she was out there. Waving. I just wanted to scream at her, _stop waving! No one appreciates it! They're making fun of you, can't you see?_

"Look at that old bat," one boy said with an evil snicker. "Still out there, waving like a moron."

"I think her brain's defectives," another added with a sly smirk. "She's probably using it for a pillow or something. Just look at her hair!"

"It looks like she just woke up," the loudest boy on the bus said cruelly. "The old dingbat, I bet she's poor."

"Yeah," the first boy agreed, shaking his head in disgust. "The old fart probably can't afford a decent shirt, that's probably why she's wearing that robe."

"Why's she always out there?" the loud boy asked heartlessly.

"Because she's too stupid to figure out how to get back into her home!" The second boy said with an evil laugh.

"Why does waving to us make her stupid?" I asked suddenly, turning to them, anger flaring in my eyes. "Why does being kind mean that you're uncool?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" the loud boy replied with a loud laugh.

"Why are you so mean to her? Just because she waves to us every morning doesn't mean that she's stupid!" I yelled at him, my hands clenching into fists.

"Why else would she be out there every morning, huh?"

"Well, maybe if you took the time to get to know her before you judge her, you'll find out why!"

"Why are you defending her?" The first boy asked with curiosity.

"Because it's the right thing to do. Because making fun of someone you don't even know is wrong. Because you guys are idiots and don't understand what it's like to be normal."

"Hey!"

"Watch it, pal!"

"I don't care! If being nice means that you are uncool and everything, then I don't want to be mean! That's just stupid! You guys make fun of her because you want to be popular! You're making fun of someone just so that people will like you! And that nice lady isn't even here to defend herself! Cowards, talking and calling her names behind her back. You guys aren't men, and you never will be men. You'll just be sick little insects dirtying the city of Tokyo."

"Take that back!" the second boy cried, standing up while the bus was still moving.

"The truth hurts, doesn't it?" I asked him, a humorless smile on my lips. "You don't like to hear the real deal about the person you've become, huh? I bet you use to be a nice person, before popularity killed the real you. I bet, if you weren't the man you were now, you'd be agreeing with me. I bet there are kids on this bus that are agreeing with me!"

"Shut up!"

"Why? Does saying this stuff make me stupid? Just like waving to us every morning makes that lady stupid?"

"Just shut up!"

"Not unless you promise you won't speak unkindly to that lady ever again! Not until you promise you won't speak wrongly about anyone that you don't know! Not anyone that you know doesn't deserve it! Cruelty doesn't make the man. Honor does. The sense of right and wrong. If you can't decide which is which, you'll never succeed in life. You'll never become a man!"

"Fine! Alright, I promise! I promise!"

"And what about you?" I asked, turning to the first guy, daring him to say no.

"I promise."

"And you?" I said, rounding on the loud boy.

"…I promise."

"Good. Next time, when she waves, she won't be waving to an empty shell. She won't be waving to a stone. Next time she waves. Tomorrow, when she waves, we'll wave back. We'll wave back."

The next morning came quickly. The drive was silent, the three boys glancing at me every once in a while with silent respect.

And when that lady waved, she wasn't waving alone.

We waved back.

And a smile spread across her ashen face.

Her eyes lightened up.

And we waved, until we couldn't see her anymore.

We continued to wave to each other every morning. She would always be out there, waving to us. And we would wave back, more eagerly every time.

But, one day, she wasn't there. She wasn't outside, with her coffee, in her bathrobe, waving to us.

And I knew that something was wrong. I could just feel it. And it worried me…

After school, I called my mom so that she could take me to the old lady's house. I was kind of scared, but I put on a strong face, and walked up to the door.

I knocked twice, loudly and clearly. No one answered. I paused, but knocked again. Still, no one answered.

Right when I was about to knock again, a young woman opened the door, her eyes puffy and red, like she had been crying.

"Can I help you?" she asked me softly, her voice cracking as if she were holding back tears.

I opened my mouth to speak, but then I realized I didn't know what to say. I didn't know the lady's name, and I couldn't ask, "Is the old lady that always waves to our bus here?"

Then, I thought of something to say. Taking a deep breath, I asked, "Is the owner of this house in?"

"I'm sorry," she replied with a sniff. "She passed away this morning. Actually, she must've gone during the night, in her sleep. I'm sorry…"

I was frozen, I couldn't speak, I couldn't move. The old lady died? No! She couldn't have. Tears blurred my vision and I shook my head angrily. I didn't even know her and I was crying for her.

"So am I," I managed to say. Looking up at her, I asked, "Are you her daughter?"

She shook her head. "No. I'm her caretaker. Her only daughter passed away long ago in a car accident. I was hired to watch over her, to make sure she didn't go into a state of depression and such. I arrived a couple hours ago, found her still in her bed, and called the doctor. He left not too long ago."

My gaze had returned to the ground, and I was still shaking my head in denial. Finally, taking another deep breath, I asked her, "Is it alright if I come in and see her? One last time?"

She stared at me for a long time, and stared back desperately. For some reason, I needed to see her. I needed to see the nice old lady once more.

After a long period of silence, she nodded her head, and let me in. I didn't look around at all, I was just intent on seeing her. The lady led me to her room, and I stood in the doorway, taking in the sight.

She was lying peacefully on her plain bed, as if she were still asleep. The sunlight streamed through the blinds of the open window, playing across her face as the gentle wind toyed with the long white curtains beside her head. She was still under the covers, which were smooth and wrinkle-free. Her brow was smooth and relaxed. She seemed so peaceful, lying there. Did all dead people look like that?

"What was her name?" I asked softly, so as not to disturb the tranquility of the scene.

"Don't you know it?" she asked me in return, her brow furrowed in confusion.

"We didn't know each other that well. I was just a… friend…"

"Oh… her name was Joy. And she had much of it."

I slowly made my way to the head of the bed, never taking my eyes off of her. If it weren't for her aging wrinkles, I would've said she was beautiful. What a loss…

I raised on of my hands, and rested it on her soft, even forehead. Then, I closed my eyes, bowed my head, and said, "Joy, caretaker of such a kind-hearted soul, bear heed to the happiness you spread and rest in peace."

Then, I removed my hand and muttered a quick "thank you" to the old lady… Joy's caretaker before leaving.

Such a nice lady, passing away when she deserved not to.

But she was kind.

She was happy.

So everyone, spread the joy.

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Another thoughtful story from me, isn't that great? Tell me what you thought of it, I'm really dying to know!


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